new york in july, 1998
by j. alfred prufrock
Summary: The man’s voice has a Scottish lilt and Lily likes him instantly, although she isn’t entirely sure why." In July of 1998, Lily van der Woodsen shares a bench with one Oliver Wood. They talk. Implied LilyxRufus and OliverxPercy


bA/N:/b I'm really not sure where this came from. And I'm not really sure that I like it.

**A/N:** This was just a strange idea that was bouncing around in my head for a while. Please review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything, nor am I making any profit whatsoever off of this.

*

After twenty minutes of walking through Central Park, left hand tight and secure around Serena's wrist and right hand loosely holding Eric's small hand, Lily starts to deeply regret wearing her cropped white jacket. The sweat tracks down her face in thin trails, smearing her concealer (heavy under the eyes, because Eric was having nightmares again) and she's almost positive her mascara and lip-liner are ruined beyond repair now. She needs to sit down or she'll faint (she always was a little dramatic).

With a sigh, she sees that the only bench is occupied by a young guy with big, dark eyes and a slender frame and for a moment he reminds her so much of Rufus (_it's been almost ten years, Lily, don't start regretting things **now**_), that she reels a little before she walks over to him. He doesn't notice her standing next to him until she clears her throat. "Um, hello. Is this seat taken?"

He looks alarmed, almost shaken, and shakes his head a little. "No, it's not," he says, and moves over until he's almost hanging off the bench to give the blonde family room.

Lily smiles and sits down. Serena smoothes down her gold tresses and takes a seat between her mother and the man. Eric, however, peers at the man intently before walking over to him. He grins widely, showing off a gap-toothed smile, riddled with holes from missing teeth and announces, "Hi. I'm Eric."

"Oh, Eric, please, don't bother him," Lily begs, wanting to stand up and grab her small son, but unwilling to let go of Serena, who was prone to just wandering off the second Lily turned her back.

But to Lily's surprise, the man's weary face broke into a wide smile and he answers, "Hello, Eric. My name is Oliver. How are you?" (The last time Eric did this was at the Eleanor Waldorf's birthday party to Bart Bass, and Bart hadn't even cracked a smile as he called for Dorota to drag Eric away.)

The man's voice has a Scottish lilt and Lily likes him instantly, although she isn't entirely sure why.

"I'm good," Eric murmurs, suddenly shy. He smiles a little. "How old are you? I just turned six."

The man – Oliver – smiles again. "I'm twenty-three. But that's not nearly as impressive as six. That's very old, Eric."

"I know." Eric toes the ground a little. "Why are you so sad?"

Lily laughs nervously and lets go of Serena long enough to grab Eric. "Oh, Eric, darling, that's enough. Leave the poor man alone." She chuckles as Eric squirms and giggles in her grasp and Serena watches, giggling wildly and clapping, her blonde curls bouncing.

Oliver smiles a little when Eric finally gets out of Lily's arms and then points to something far away. "Momma, ice cream!" he shouts, showing her where the vendor is. "Ice cream, please?"

With a small smile, Lily hands Eric a crisp $20. "Look after Serena," she says, musing on how strange it is that she tells her youngest to look after her eldest. "Come right back, okay? No wandering off." The moment they're out of earshot, Lily looks over at Oliver. "I'm sorry about Eric. He's…"

"Spirited?" Oliver supplies, and Lily nods, her smile widening into something like a grin. "That's all right, ma'am. My mate Percy has four younger siblings. I know how they can be."

"Yes, well, he and his sister can be a bit of a handful. I'm sorry if he bothered you." Lily takes a handkerchief out of her brown leather Chanel purse and dabs at her forehead. "God, this heat is really something. I swear I need a new air-conditioner." Then she pauses. "I'm Lily, by the way." She holds out one hand to shake, and Oliver clasps it, his hands rough and calloused against her palms, soft as a lamb.

"I'm Oliver," he returns, nodding at her. Then he shrugs. "It's not too bad. Granted, I'm more used to the cold, being from Edinburgh. Summers never got really that intense there."

"Oh, Edinburgh is lovely," Lily agrees. "It's so green and beautiful."

Again, Oliver shrugs. "It's all right. I mean, I grew up there so, yeah, I like it, but I spent most of my summers in London or with Percy."

Lily is a mother and a mother can sense things in someone's voice that no one else can, so she puts a comforting hand on Oliver's shoulder because there's a hidden sorrow in his voice that she can't ignore. It's the same sorrow that's in Eric's voice when he shrugs off not sleeping because of bad dreams. (He dreams of the night his father got into the private airplane and when it landed, it was in Sicily and he never looked back.) "I'm sorry," she whispers, and she means it.

"'s okay," Oliver mumbles. Then he says, "But everything's so different because of the war and I can't find my footing and I'm not sure Percy's _ever_ going to talk to me again because of what happened to his brother and…" He looks up at Lily with his large, dark eyes (_just like Rufus's_, Lily muses) and bites his lower lip. "'m sorry. I really shouldn't be bothering you with all of this."

And Lily rubs his shoulder again. "Don't be sorry," she tells him gently, smiling a little. She doesn't know what he means about a war or Percy (even though she has a pretty clear idea that Percy's not "just a mate"), but he looks so distressed and lost that she can't help but feel a little heart-broken for him.

A moment later, Eric and Serena come walking back up, Eric with a chocolate cone and Serena with strawberry. Ice cream dribbles onto their hands, sticky palms reaching for their mother's hands and Lily grins at them, putting on her sunglasses. "How's the ice cream?" she asks, bending down to lick Serena's.

The girl giggles and sticks a finger in the ice cream before licking it clean. "It's good, mommy. Can I sleep at Blair's tonight?"

Beaming, Lily kisses her daughter on the cheek. "Of course you can, precious," she whispers. Suddenly, Lily feels fearful and nostalgic and she presses her nose into her daughter's long blonde locks, inhaling the sweet scents of vanilla shampoo and a hint of _Arpège_ (their entire suite smells of it) and tears spring into her eyes for a moment as she hugs her little girl.

"_Momma_," Serena whines, pulling away. "You're ruining my hair."

Lily can't help but laugh, and it's a sad laugh as she smoothes down a few stray strands. "I'm sorry, baby." She looks over her shoulder to see Oliver looking up at the sky, using his hand as a visor against the blazing sun. "Let's go get you cleaned up and then over to Blair's, all right?"

"Yay!" Serena exclaims, bouncing a little.

"Bye, Oliver," Eric says, waving at the young man.

"Goodbye, Eric," Oliver responds, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It was nice meeting you, Lily. Thanks for… listening."

"Of course." Lily touches his shoulder. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

She turns away for a second to adjust Eric's shoes and, when she looks back, Oliver is nowhere to be found.

_*_

_end_


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